The Hunted
by S.E. Davis
Summary: Summary: After Arthur and Merlin are captured while on the search for an enchanted beast that has been attacking Camelot's residents, the stakes become relatively high. Will mistrust lead to their downfall when the hunter becomes the hunted. Set after series 3 episode 3.
1. Chapter 1

**A Note From the Author: Nothing much to say, but I hope you do enjoy the story. Please review, tell me anything. Thank you, S.E. Davis.**

**Disclaimer: _Merlin_ is the property of BBC. And may I congratulate them on a job well done. **

**P.S. This is a non-slash production.**

* * *

**Chapter1: The Plan's Beginning **

In the darkening forest, a young man waited anxiously for his accomplice. An owl hooted nearby, making the stranger jump frightfully while pulling a small dagger from its sheath.

"Matthias, my friend." chuckled a figure in a dark cloak, stepping from behind a well grown oak. "You scare too easily."

Matthias knew that voice from anywhere. "Really, Bolton." he sighed, putting his knife back in its place. "You're late. I started to think that you weren't coming."

"Com'mon," said the cheery hooded man as he leaned against a large stone engraved with letters that had long been worn away by nature . "You should have faith in me by now, Mattie."

Matthias rolled his eyes in good humor and decided to get straight to business. "I'll take it to you still being alive that the Myndeor has been released and sent to the right place."

"Indeed." gleamed Bolton. "So, next?"

"Next, we will need to wait and watch near the target." answered the stern young man. "Are you sure this kingdom has the most enemies? I would think that the Essetir king would have more foes."

"Not by a long shot, plus he will make a good collaborator." smirked the merry companion holding out a small purple root. "I also have the fol-foolk-"

"The folcsóp sprout, good." Matthias said taking the plant. He placed a steady hand over it. "_Áwæcnest ond bemeldest_."

"To Camelot, then?" asked Bolton eagerly.

"Yes, my friend. To Camelot."

* * *

They had only been about two yards away from home before bandits attacked. _A new record_- thought Merlin dryly, as he successfully knocked out one of the men with a log. Arthur on the other hand had taken down at least five men by now, compared to Merlin's two. However, the young warlock was more focused on keeping an eye on his friend, relying on the four Camelot knights to fight.

A gruff-looking bandit took notice of Merlin and raised his sword to strike. Merlin could do nothing but watch his demise. The blade came swiftly down but it never touched him. The man fell to reveal a posed Arthur removing his sword from the bandit's back. Merlin smirked nervously as if to say 'thank you'.

"What did I say about you and fighting, _Mer_lin?" asked Arthur.

"That in my case cowering is probably best." he answered.

"Cheer up, at least you're good at something." mocked Arthur as he turned to kill another. Just then, a bandit prepared to take out the royalty from behind. Within the blink of an eye a tree root suddenly sprung up, tripping the man.

"You're welcome." muttered Merlin before going back into the fight. The battle was finished in a matter of minutes and the twelve thugs all laid on the ground, defeated.

"Sire," called one of the knights beckoning Arthur to a further back location of the scene.

"What on Earth-" said the prince taking in the ghastly site of what looked like a good sized group of four or more ordinary-looking villagers sprawled about the ground, mangled and mauled

"D'you think the bandits did this?" Merlin said in a hushed manor. Arthur investigated and notice something odd about the wounds on the victims. They were almost as if-

"These," said Arthur unsettlingly, "are the marks of an animal, one that I've never come across before."

"Are you saying that some_thing_ did this?" Merlin asked frightfully. A large part of him hoped it to be a bear, wild wolves, boars, or even a gang of killer squirrels; just something, _anything_, not magical related.

Camelot needed at least a week of magic-free life. Just one week would be enough. Though last week's magic incident was completely the warlock's fault when he unwittingly released a troublesome goblin.

Suddenly, a ear-wrenching screech filled the air breaking the cold silence that happened upon the discovery. Beneath the mass of the dead hid the monster responsible for this. It soon emerged.

"Brace yourselves!" called Arthur to his men, preparing for the worst.

What emerged from the carnage surprised them all. With the shimmer came a small fox-looking animal, yet it seemed odd in a manner of appearances.

"A fox." Merlin said in disbelief.

"That's not a fox, Merlin." corrected Arthur, keeping his sword and eyes in the direction of the thing.

Though the warlock was still skeptical he had to admit that the fox did look, how would one put it, odd. Unlike a fox, this creature had a bright red complexion (brighter than any ordinary fox could ever have), with two long looking fangs that hung intimidatiously out of its mouth, and a pair of dangerous gold eyes.

It screeched once more before sprinting off into a blur. A sudden stir from the bodies caught the groups attention yet again. A moan.

"Sire." said a knight hovering over one of the villagers. Arthur and Merlin ran to where he stood. A man with a horrible gash on his chest. "He's still alive, sire."

Merlin sprung into action. Being the ward of a physician, it was only natural for him to pick up on some of the trade. "The cut's deep, but it looks like it didn't bleed too badly. We'll have to get him back to Camelot quickly, though."

"Alright." Arthur said grabbing the man's arms. "Help me get him up."

The prince and two of the knights set him on a horse as carefully as they could. Merlin spoke up when he noticed who's horse they had put the villager.

"That's your horse." Merlin said to his friend.

"Yes, _Mer_lin." retorted Arthur as one would answer a small child. Truth be told Arthur felt it his purpose to help his people any way he could; and so asking one of knights to give up their horse seemed rather conceited. This wasn't their responsibility

"You plan on walking the whole way back, then?" smirked the cocky young man.

"As a matter of fact, no. I don't. Your horse will do just fine for me." Arthur couldn't help but to grin maliciously. Sure he would not order one of the knights to give up their ride, but Merlin wasn't a knight. Plus he could use the discipline. The swaggering fool.

"But-" said the servant as the party began to head back.

"Come now, Merlin." scoffed Arthur with a chuckle. "You'll never make it back just standing there."

The servant gave a rueful huff before shuffling after the group.

* * *

When Uther Pendragon had heard from the herald that his son had returned early from his patrol, he'd figured the worst. Different worries played in his head. Maybe Cenred's army had invaded and there was only moments to spare before an attack, or possibly Arthur had somehow gotten injured while he was out.

But to his relief, Arthur entered the throne room fine and fit. That didn't stop the king from clasping his son's shoulder fondly with joy.

"Sire," Arthur began, bowing respectfully.

"Son." answered Uther in response. "Is everything well? You're not supposed to be back until late this evening.

"There were some complications." Arthur admitted. "We were attacked by bandits a couple of yards from the city's gates, but we dispatched them easily."

"Is that all, then?" asked Uther, confused that his son would come back with such little news.

"No." said the prince shifting uncomfortably.

He knew that the real issue was probably magic related, and he very much disliked his father's zealous response to the subject. True, magic was evil (for Arthur had witness this truth many times), but the way his father carried about this matter was a trait Arthur hoped he would never develop. Uther was ready and willing to destroy anyone and anything that had even the slightest rumor of mystic capabilities, while Arthur on the other hand wanted solid proof of such transgressions before doing anything to anyone.

"We found some villagers in the forest who had been attacked by some wild animal." Arthur said looking to the floor. "There was one survivor who is being tended to by Gaius now."

"What was the manner of this beast?" asked Uther, a hopeful spark of wanting it to be something of magic. It would be good for Arthur to see the evil of magic constantly. The king would make sure his son knew of its dangers.

"It appeared to be a fox, but-" Arthur hesitated.

"But what?"

"It was not a fox. It was a strange color of red, and had large fangs."

"Probably a creature of magic." Uther spit out the last word as if it had left a bitter taste in his mouth. The last magical attack on the Pendragon estate was only a week ago, and it left Uther highly conclusive that every mishap was the fault of enchantments.

"We can't be sure, but Gaius confirmed that the villager we found will be able to tell us more within a matter of hour."

"Well done, my son. Well done indeed." said the king already distracted by the new challenge. The prince smile before leaving his father; not at all comfortable by his father's congrates.

* * *

The villager stood unnervingly before the court. Of course he was not in any trouble, but many things still remained a mystery to him. He rubbed gently on his chest. Beneath his tunic was gash that didn't feel as bad as it looked.

"What is your name?" asked Arthur in an attempt to be sincere.

"Esmond of Galbermont."

"Do you know what attacked you and the others?" Uther asked, ramming straight to the point.

"No, my lord." said the rubbing his head. "I don't even remember being in the forest. Last I can recall I was at my farm, then nothing. I woke up here."

The throne room was quiet while the king thought to himself. The only lead they had was the fox-creature Arthur reported to him. He knew the next option.

"You may reside here in Camelot until you return to your home. The court is dismissed." he said with the wave of a hand.

"Gaius." Uther said and the court physician stayed behind.

"My lord." greeted the old man.

"Have you yet to research this thing that Arthur claimed was near the scene?"

"I have, sire." answered Gaius. "Merlin helped me identify the creature in my studies."

Uther raised an eyebrow, just noticing the boy standing next to Gaius.

"And-" urged the king. By the way his old friend shuffled nervously, Uther guessed it to be bad news.  
"My book identifies it as a Red-foxed Daemon," answered Gaius holding the petit book in his hands. He opened it and turned in to a page with a horrific drawing of the creature. "Unfortunately, there was only a short riddle pertaining to it."

Uther took in the words from the book while Gaius read them out loud: _Water me. I will grow. See me. You won't know. Summon me. They will pay. One by one. I will slay._

"I have no time for riddles, Gaius. Is this thing a threat or not?" ordered the king.

"I believe so, sire." Gaius answered. "But I can only guess that at its size, it can only take down one prey at a time; hint the verse 'One by one. I will slay'."

"And the book mentioned something about summoning. Is this work of a sorcerer?"

"That is what I've concluded." Gaius responded.

"Will magic have no end to my torture?" Uther asked himself. "I shall have the guards search the city for the fiend responsible for. As for this _thing_, I will send Arthur to slay it before it can do anymore harm." Uther concluded dismissing Gaius and Merlin.

"Sire." said the physician as both men bowed to the king.

"So long for an ordinary week." grumbled Merlin as the two strolled out of the throne room.

"I haven't had one of those since you arrived here, Merlin." mused the older man.

* * *

**Another Note From the Author: I know, I know; this chapter is relatively a bore, but there are some establishments I needed to get in. I shall try to update a 'more good' chapter soon. **

**P.S. Keep in note the stone with the intangible words on it from scene. I hope it will spice up the tale. **


	2. A Day to Remember

**A Word From the Writer: I have battled a repeatedly dying computer, writer's block, college packing, and a long and sleepless night of writing, but I've finally done it! Here's Chapter 2. I'm going to bed now.**

* * *

**Chapter II: A Day to Remember**

"How much farther should I make the tracks go, Bolton?"

No answer came as the bandit looked to his friend who was leaning against a tree, vast asleep.

"Bolton!"

The fatigued man jolted up, unaware that he had been asleep. He had been up and about all yesterday spying, bartering, and using any other method he knew to get information about the prince's search for the Myndeor.

"How much farther with the tracks?" his partner asked once more.

"Here is fine. Thank you, Matthias." yawned Bolton.

Matthias rolled his eyes. "Let's head back. We'll have an early start tomorrow."

"An important day. One that, I'm sure, Arthur Pendragon will never forget." chuckled Bolton.

* * *

It was a bright and early morning in which the sun had yet to rise, but the skies revealed a glow of hope for its arrival. The forest was damped with a lovely glow of dew on the leaves, giving off the fresh fragrant of nature. These were things that Prince Arthur would have enjoyed, had it not been for the constant chatter from his manservant.

"In the dark of the woods, probably going to be killed by a wild animal." said Merlin. Carrying heavy hunting gear was not the young man's idea of how to spend a morning.

"Though it seems like we have been attacked by bandits lately." continued the lad with his pep talk. "Wild animals or bandits. Which will it be?"

"Please, Merlin, shut up."

Merlin rolled his eyes at the empty threat and continued his banter. "Do you even know what you're looking for? I don't see any tracks."

"Of course _you_ don't. You're too busy crying to actually look." answered Arthur as he bent down to inspect what appeared to be small paw prints. Next to it was a lock of red fur. He was definitely on the right trail.

The fox seemed to be heading North East. Essetir. Great. If they hurried their pace, they could catch it before it reached the next kingdo-

"See anything yet?" asked Merlin, breaking Arthur's thoughts. The servant leaned in close to catch a peek at whatever it was his friend studied.

Arthur lost his patience. "We are looking for a creature that has been _killing_ people, _Mer_lin." he said harshly. The younger man snapped up his head in guilt to respond, but Arthur continued.

"I swear, if you continue to distract me, I will personally see that the rest of your life in Camelot be in agony."

"But I-"

"And not another word from you until we find this thing. Got it?" said Arthur continuing on the path.

"Should I answer that, or do you not want me to agree?"

"Merlin!" At that Merlin smiled and followed after the prince

Arthur 's content returned after walking for what felt like hours, picking out the sloppy tracks left behind by the fox. Merlin followed behind quietly, thinking whatever idiotic thoughts that flowed through that simple mind of his.

After a moment of fruitless walking Arthur noticed that the tracks abruptly came to an end.

"Arthur." Merlin called from behind him.

"Not now, Merlin." said Arthur, frustrated by the dead end.

"You may want to see what he wants." said a foreign voice from the rear of the duo. "It may be important."

Arthur whipped around, automatically collecting his sword. Merlin stood stiff, a sword dangerously aimed at his back. The welder of the weapon was a hooded man with a deadly look about his eyes.

"Put the sword down, your majesty." he said.

Arthur hesitantly obeyed when a sword was placed a his back by another hooded man. The prince watched as Merlin's captor whispered something into the younger man's ear. Merlin gasped in pain, then gave a shuddered before his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"Merlin!" yelled Arthur with concern. "What did you do to him?"

"He should be the least of your worries, sire." said Arthur's captor before placing a menacing blow to his head. The thug chuckled. "See you soon."

* * *

_Áwæcne_, commanded Merlin with his thoughts. Nothing happened.

"At least this one went according to plan." said one of the thugs.

"When do my plans ever go wrong?" chuckled the other.

Merlin had been listening to the two for hours, as he laid in a chattering cart, painfully frozen by the enchantment. He could sense his own magic preventing it from doing its full purpose, whatever that may have been. But as a price, the spell burned his entire being almost as if chilled ice ran through his blood.

And for hours, he unsuccessfully casted any spell he could think of with the hint of freeing him.

_Ic __þé__bebod__se fréodóm_, Merlin tried again. No good.

The lump at his feet, which he guessed to be the unconscious Arthur, rolled painfully onto his foot. Had Merlin the power to do so, he would have kicked his friend.

"We should stop for the night." suggested one. "Pull over and help me get them out."

Night already? Had the two been cooped up for that long?

"Alright, but make sure you don't damage my merchandise." responded the second.

Merchandise? The warlock did not like the sound of that.

The prisoners clumped to the side of their prison as the ride came to an abrupt halt. Merlin was picked up and thrown to the ground.

"Hey! I told you, careful with the merchandise."

"Sorry."

"_Ic__ ácwiðee __þæm déaþe__ánga_." Was chanted in Merlin's ear, and relief flooded through him as the enchantment began to fade. His eyes fluttered open, to reveal the scene of a darkened forest.

"You may be a bit uncomfortable from sleeping for so long, but you'll be fine in a short while." said the crook who had set the spell.

Merlin rolled over in the dirt, trying to collect his well being. Everything ached, so much that he decided to lay in the dirt rather than fight off the men.

He listened as the words were said again, but not towards him. Arthur.

The royal coughed in distressed. "Whah, what-" was all he could get out.

"Please, sire. Try not to speak until you get some food and water." one of the men warned, but Arthur would not be ordered about so easily.

"You…What do you want?" he asked.

"Nothing much. Matthias, over there, just needs some important information from you. While I need some new stock for my slave trade." said the man in a cheery manor. "People pay so much for royalty. Especially ones with so many enemies."

Arthur took this in, thinking of something to answer this with. "Where's͜ Merlin?" he tried to ask, but it came out in a slur.

"The lad's fine except… Mattie the servant just, err, gagged." said the man walking to his friend. "Your spell didn't mess him up, did it? I can't sell damaged products."

"He's fine, just a bad reaction to the spell."

Arthur took this moment to look about the surroundings. He couldn't tell of their pinpoint location, but he knew that this was a part of the forest beyond his kingdom's borders. His body felt slightly fatigued, but he strength was returning to him quickly. Not that that mattered. A thick rope connected his rist to a large tree.

He quickly scanned for his friend and found him shriveled up on the ground next to him, surrounded by a puddle of unpleasentries. But he did seem alive, and carried no signs of physical wounds, and for that Arthur felt relieved.

"We'll have dinner for you soon." informed a captor.

Arthur did not stop them from their odd behavior as he tried to get Merlin's attention.

"Merlin!" he called but the servant just groaned.

"I think I'm going to be sick." the boy finally responded.

"Quit being such a girl and see if you can find anything sharp around you so we can cut these ropes." said Arthur as he kept an eye out for the two men. They were deeply invested into making soup.

"Can't. Move." answered Merlin.

Arthur sighed. _Idiot_, he thought in annoyance. It seemed he would have to save them both, as usual. All he needed was to find a sharp stone before the soup that occupied his captors was completed.

Unfortunately for him, the soup that was being served was no ordinary soup.

"_Hrædinga cócas_" Matthias chanted quietly as Bolton chopped up the folcsóp sprout into the stew along with other vegetables to hide its full content.

"It's ready." informed Matthias, as the soup boiled under the fire in an un-natural amount of time.

"Who's ready for supper?" Bolton asked turning to the two captives. Neither one looked ready to eat. The prince looked too infuriated to take a bowl from the men who'd taken him as prize, while the servant looked as if he could barely sit up let alone eat. "Great. Looks like I have to everything."

Bolton worked quickly, serving the younger lad some fresh water to get his energy up, which seemed to work like a charm. Next he persuaded the other to take a bowl of the stew, arguing that they would have no more food for days to come. Though it worsened his anger, the royal finally accepted some soup.

The two prisoners sat eating their meal, unaware of its true purpose. Matthias and Bolton sat on logs next to the captives eating their own non-tainted soup. The magic user carried on him a quill and scroll.

Merlin was all but too happy to eat. He was starving from a day of hunting/ being hunted. With his strength and appetite back, the food he ate felt like a million gold coins. He couldn't care less as of why the bandits decided to feed him.

Arthur, on the other hand, was completely and utterly suspicious of the food he ate. Poison, maybe. Or better yet, they were gathering his strength so he would have to fight for his and Merlin's life. The idiot sure wouldn't be able to defend himself against anyone or anything.

Anything.

Suddenly, Arthur remembered the reason they were out in the first place. The daemon-fox. Agony set in as he thought of the innocent lives that were being lost today by the vicious creature, while he sat here captured, unable to help anyone.

He decided to take this up with the bandits. "What are you doing this for?" he asked the two un-expectantly.

"Gold." they answered in unison.

"I shall pay you all the gold that you want if you release me and my servant."

The bandits looked at him in confusion, then looked at one another before returning their gaze to Arthur. "Why would you do that?" asked one.

"Because if you do not release me, I will not be able to stop a murderous creature, and a lot of innocent people will die." Arthur said in a desperate attempt to get his view in. "And for what? A few pieces of gold to fill your pockets?"

"Ah, the Myndeor hunt." said the smirking thug. "I almost forgot. Don't worry. It was only bait, it'll die within a few days of being in the wild."

Arthur couldn't believe what he was hearing though it made sense. The clear tracks, the way it led them into the hands of these two. Only bait. People were dead for what? Only bait.

A guilty feeling rose into Arthur's gut. Only bait. Those villagers who died, their lives worthless? For bait.

Suddenly words that his father had once shared rippled through his mind. The time that he had wanted to save Merlin's life from a deadly poisoning, yet his father had ordered him not to persuade the dangerous mission his father gave him some grave words that haunted him. _Not worthless. Worth less than yours._

How could one man's life be considered less than another's based on blood titles and birth rights? It broke the prince's heart to think about.

"You mean to tell me that those people died for nothing?" it was Merlin who had asked the question. Arthur couldn't help but to be surprised by the humor behind his tone.

"Not really." answered the smirking crook. "They died for more than ten hundred golden coins."

This sent Merlin into a sprawl of laughter. Arthur looked in pure disgust at his servant's amusement.

"Ten thousand gold coins!" repeated Merlin uncontrollably spitting out stew with his laugh.

Arthur did not know why, but the repulsive manor of Merlin's laugh seemed comical in a way. A strange light-headedness set in as he let out a chuckle. This only made Merlin laugh harder. Arthur joined in hysterically laughing at nothing.

"Wh-what did you do to us." Merlin managed to ask between laughs.

"Gentlemen." said one of the bandits. "May I introduce you to the fo-fols-"

"The folcsóp sprout." helped the other bandit.

"Yes, the folcsóp sprout." continued the cheeky one. "It's a real crack up. It forces you to spill out any information that is asked, and only the truth.

As a fun little test on its efficacy, pray tell me, what is your deepest darkest secret?"

* * *

Her name was Cleva.

Or at least that is what the large stone was suppose to read, but the work of the poor carver had withstood nature for only a few years.

The old man sat before quietly before the stone. Usually he sat to recollected on what it represented. The daughter he once had. Her smile, her smiling eyes that looked so much like her mother's, her little hand that he watched grow for many many years.

But this was not what he thought of on this visit to her empty resting place. Now he recalled the day he left to visit his sister, leaving Cleva behind. He remembered coming home to an empty house a week later, a note on the door informing of her arrest and execution.

An execution he had missed by three days. No one had even remembered her name after it was done with. No one but him, of course.

Twenty years later, his heart broke all over again as he sat before the stone.

He had forgiven the king many years because he knew hate and bitterness had the power to destroy one's entire being. But for one moment, he sought revenge, and he had the power to do so.

The old man had been shuffling his way to the grave, last night when he heard intruders on the sacred spot. His first reaction was to asked them to leave. Surely they didn't know the significance of the stone, but then he overheard them going on about a sinister plan concerning the kingdom of his daughter's death.

The two men had released a Myndeor. Almost harmless when simply released into the wild, _almost_, but when summoned to attack a specific target… Well it was a matter to be dealt with.

Tonight, the old man had a choice. Continue to forgive, he considered with a feeling of lost ringing his heart. Or, one moment of revenge, to show all of the hateful kingdom of its transgressions. They deserved it, the lot of them, for not protecting the innocent as they had once promised.

And so the old man chose.

He closed his eyes, hardened his heart, then chanted the old spell.

Soon, he could feel a deep and haunting presence. He shivered, his heart already regretting his decision. A dark voice suddenly sounded in his head. The silent voice of the beast. _To whom do I have the pleasure of tormenting_.

"Camelot." answered the old man aloud, a tear sliding down his cheek.

_It shall be done_, was the answer before the voice vanished along with the dark presence.

Ashamed and defeated by hate, the old man quickly collected himself from the ground and scurried from the scene. A new blood now lay at the base of the empty grave.


	3. By the Light of the Fire

**Author's Note- **

**First, I wanted to make a shout out to *megs* who reviewed the story. I don't think we can PM guest but I wanted to say thanks for the cool words, I'm excited to hear that you're enjoying the story!**

**Next- I wanted to say sorry for the wait. I just started classes. Excited for that. Now that I'm in the pattern of my classes, the next chapter will not take as long.**

**Lastly- Thanks to everyone who views, favorites, and/ or follows The Hunted. I was so scared that my first fan fiction would be a flop. You make me happy, whether you know it or not, I am so happy.**

**Here it is for you, the next scene.**

* * *

**Chapter III: By the Light of the Fire**

"… _pray tell me, what is your deepest darkest secret?" _

The quietness of the chilled night was disrupted by the crackling of the campfire. Nothing but the uncontrollable laughter of the two captives accompanied the sizzle of the flames. Arthur and Merlin felt the strong influence of the folcsóp plant. They knew that they would reveal anything and everything if asked. And they would, whether they wanted to or not.

Arthur had dreaded the question from the pit of his soul, despite his current state of laughter. He had tried hard to fight the power of the polluted broth, to stop his hysterical cackling, and to keep his own poisonous secrets to himself.

He hadn't shared them with anyone, living life as if they had never troubled him though they did. Somehow he had always managed to keep them safely away from his mind.

Until now.

"You first, sire."

The prince sprawled about the ground in bursts of unruly chuckles, clumps of darkened dirt clung to his favorite leather coat as he managed to wheeze out answers between breaths.

"It happened soon after I was knighted." he began. "My father sent me and a small band of knights after one of the last druid camp in our forest at the time."

At this, Merlin gave out an irrepressible laugh. Of course Uther would send his son to do his dirty work.

"When we arrived at the camp during the night-" continued Arthur. "-but they were already expecting us. Everyone: men, women, and children stood waiting for us. We killed them all. They didn't even have a chance."

"What!" exclaimed Merlin. He could never imagined Arthur hurting anyone who had done no wrong. That was, except for when the prince was under the sadistic authority of the king.

"It was my father's doing. He- his hate for magic, I swear it'll be his downfall." The prince's heart broke, but he couldn't stop laughing.

Of course Arthur did not feel the same hate as his father, but to know that he detested Uther's ambitions this much was something to relish. Sure, they were probably never going to return home again, but this gave Merlin a tiny ray of hope.

Until it was his turn.

"Alright, servant. Spill it." ordered Bolton.

The uneasy lad was in complete panic on the inside. If he didn't think of anything quick, not only

would Arthur know about his magic, but he would most likely put their lives in greater risk when the bandits found out.

_Think, Merlin, think_, he told himself. _What is more secret than your magic? Something no one knows. _

"I have…" he struggled to hold back the words that wanted so badly to shout 'I have magic'.

"I…I have…" then his most indefinite secret was blurted out. "I've put horse dung in your boots before, Arthur." he laughed. "Not enough to where you could feel it, but enough to where people could smell it."

Unlike his magic which, not only Gaius, but Lancelot knew of, his prank on Arthur (though he had done it once or twice many many years ago) was something he had told no one.

"What!?" the prince barked with laughter. "You _idiot_! I'm going kill you if we get out of this."

_Better killing me for that, than hanging me for sorcery,_ thought the servant.

"What do you think?" said Bolton to Matthias.

"It seems like it works." answered the serious faced man. He turned to Arthur. "Now, sire, there are a few things I'm going to be needing from you, if you don't mind."

Arthur became anxious at this. He knew only one thing thugs like this would want from him.

"What is the least defensive region of Camelot if one wanted to get an army into the cities walls , Prince Arthur Pendragon."

He loathed his inability to protest an answer. "The Eastern walls are under repair right now and would be the most guarded, so the Western gates are probably your best bet." he answered, his gut in pain from the excessive laughing.

Matthias smiled at this, and began recording the confession on his scroll. "What do you think on this matter, servant? Working for the prince of Camelot, you're bound to have some information on the city's defenses."

"The Western gate is a good way to enter the city if you want to take down one of the walls."

"Some might, and then again some might not." said the crook making a note of that. "Do you know of any pathways of getting in without being detected?"

Arthur growled in anger below his jestful state.

Merlin chortled in humor. Of course he did! "If you go to the southern walls there should be a old stone door that leads into some ancient pathway beneath the castle that leads directly into the throne room. But you'll need to remove the enchantment I put on the door to get through."

No. NO. NO! He had forgotten about the door until it forcefully escaped his lips

"Enchantment!?" Arthur howled in amusement.

"What will I need to do to remove it?" mused Matthias. He hadn't thought that one so close to the son of a magic detester such as Uther Pendragon would practice the skill.

"Can't be too much!" said Arthur. The only thing that kept him from laughing this time was a pair of clenched teeth. The words Merlin and magic should not even be in the same sentence, according to him. Arthur hated the idea with his entire being. To think that after Merlin knew it was against the law plus powerfully dangerous, the fool had still managed to get into magic. If they got out of this, Arthur would no doubt kill the idiot.

"Oh, it's stronger than you'd think, Arthur." Merlin laughed. Through his funny façade Merlin yelled on the inside: _Shut up, shut up, shut up!_

"How strong?" Matthias asked a bit irritated. "How does one remove it?"

"Not as powerful as I could have put it but strong enough to stop anyone from following me. " This actually pained him to think of. Despite forcefully confessing his magic, this secret door had brought up terrible memories of why he'd used it in the first place. The image of a dying Freya in his arms hurt. "The spell you need will probably have to come from someone who's mastered lock spells."

"Mastered lock spells." Matthias mumble to himself taking note of this.

"Merlin, you _idiot_, how in the five kingdoms could you have magic?!" Arthur laughed. He wanted so badly to attack his friend, to yell at him, and to tell him how stupid he was.

"I-I'm stronger than you'd imagine, Arthur." Merlin chuckled, wanting so badly to hide his next words. But a small part of him wanted for Arthur to know. He wasn't weak, or defenseless, or for that matter _a girl_. Merlin was capable of so much. "I may just be the strongest sorcerer to have existed. Th-the druids even have a title for me."

"Is it idiot?" Arthur laughed.

"No, it's Emrys."

"Close enough!"

At that the two men rolled about the ground in humorous laughter. The two bandits, however stood before them with serious expressions.

"A sorcerer?!" asked Bolton furiously. "No one's going to pay for a magician!"

"People want warriors not warlocks." It was Matthias who chuckled this time. "There's a druid camp not far from here. I'll find out about this Emrys. Maybe he has some kind of value."

"You think he could be worth something?"

"I don't know, but do you want to risk losing a chance-able profit?"

Bolton scratched the back of his hooded head, a habit he developed that revealed whenever he was nervous. And he was indeed nervous. The lad had proclaimed to be one of the most powerful magician to have existed. Despite the servant's scrawny appearance, this was not a prisoner Bolton wanted to be left alone with.

"Alright." the man finally sighed. "But do that sleep thing you did earlier. I don't want to risk anything."

"Scared?"

"_No_. I just wouldn't be able to defend myself against a magic attack."

Matthias chuckled once more before walking to the captives. He whispered the enchanting words first to a disgruntled Arthur, then he moved onto the servant. "I shall be back by tomorrow evening. If I do not return by the morning after that then go on without me."

The crooks both nodded to each other before Matthias lifted his dark hood and disappeared into a cluster of large dark tree whose menacing shadows taunted the bravery of the once smirking Bolton.

* * *

The light of moon glowed dimly through the think, spooky fog. The night was in complete silence, no owl called out into the blackness, no wolf sung to the full white moon. All was still in the small village, save a trio of young men who took to adventuring about in the darkness. None of them noticed the pair of dangerous eyes that stalked closely behind them.

The lads chuckled maliciously, no doubt they were up to nothing good. The boys had been know to play harsh pranks on their fellow villagers. They were labeled as trouble makers and the entire village knew them as such.

This was not wholly their faults. They lived in a dull town where people lived for their traits. The boys had a choice, become a smither, scribe, farmer, merchant, and/or tailor, and live the rest of their lives doing so. They, instead, chose pranking as their occupation. Unfortunately for their village, they were quite good at it.

"Hand me the head." one said and he was rewarded with a large stuffed boar head, stolen from one of the boy's father.

With the help of his friends, they tightly tied it onto the peak of an old tall post, rotting with decay. Next they began to dress the post in more stolen items such as a large cloak, leather gloves, and a scarf. Soon, the post was transferred into a large beast. The lads laughed heart fully at their creation, know this would scare the wits out of the other residents and travelers alike.

"Wait until everyone wakes to _this_." snickered one into the still air.

As they took one last look at the newly decorated post, a small, red shimmer dashed from behind them. Before they could take in what was happening, all three lay on the ground slain.

The creature quickly disappeared, leaving behind its horrible and gory work of vengeance.

The night still stood frozen, waiting until everyone woke to this.

* * *

_Ic__ ácwiðee __þæm déaþe__ánha_. No that wasn't right.

Merlin laid on the flattened dirt, damped by the chill of the night. Once again he had been bounded by the painful enchantment that paralyzed him. But this time the young man had a fortunate advantage.

He had heard the words used by the bandit who had used the spell, and so he attempted many different times to repeat the words hoping to free himself. Once he did that, then he'd fight the bandit and hopefully take him out. Though that was all the plan he had. He didn't know what he would do after that. He was thinking on freeing Arthur-

The name burdened his soul with grief. Arthur knew his secret. That made his friend (if he were to ever call him that anymore) dangerous. Merlin's life would be in even more danger than ever before if Uther were to find out about his magic from his son. Or even worse, Gaius's life would be in serious trouble for harboring a sorcerer.

No. Merlin would have to get back to Camelot before the prince did. That way he could maybe talk to Gaius and they could somehow persuade Arthur of the sorcerer's allegiance. For now, he would have to free Arthur from the shadows when the bandit was taken care of, then follow him back to Camelot from the safe cover of the woods. That way he could protect the royal against any harm.

The idea gave him a new hope, and with that hope came zealous strength. Merlin let his magic fester through his being then , summoning all of his power he began the spell from within his head.

_Ic__ ácwiðee __þæm déaþe__ánga_.

The magic within Merlin tore through the petite enchantment with more force than intended, his over exertion of power creating a major stir in the wind. His golden eyes flew open as he gasped for air.

Bolton had been staring at the flames of the campfire as they licked the dying logs. Minuets seemed like hours as he wanted for Matthias. He was annoyed of the situation. That stupid servant may just very well cost him a decent percentage of the gold he had been hoping to get. Nevertheless, he still had the prince and he was sure many would pay heartily for the royalty. Especially Cenred, king of Essetir. All he had to do was survive the next two days and then he would have his reward.

However, a tall, thin, raven-haired lad would crush Bolton's plans. From behind him, a strong yet sudden gust of wind extinguished the bright fire. The sorcerer. Bolton grabbed up his sword and ran towards him.

"Don't move!" said a gruff voice. Bolton stood above the lad, sword ready in hand just in case anything bad happened.

Merlin summoned up his magic, preparing for an attack, when all of the sudden, Bolton was thrown to the ground, his weapon landing at the warlock's feet. Shockingly, it was Arthur who, from his awkward position on the ground, had tripped the man.

Had Merlin's spell effected him also?

"Merlin the sword." Arthur called while Bolton laid stunned on the ground next to the two captives. The servant quickly replied, kicking the blade to the other man.

Using his mouth as a leverage, the prince sliced through his bondages then went to do the same for Merlin.

The bandit quickly sprung up and swung a dagger at Arthur, but he swiftly dodged while running the sword across the thug's chest. The man fell to the ground gracelessly. The two you g men stood in silence, heavily breathing. Just as Merlin began to mutter a 'thank you' Arthur turned towards him thrusting the sword in his direction.

"I'm placing you under arrest for crimes of sorcery." said the young Pendragon gravely. The familiar face of his friend was replaced by a cold eyed stranger. Arthur, the stubborn clot-pole was gone, and in his place was the magic hater he knew Uther to be.


End file.
